


A Part for Blue One

by whiplashcrash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Dream Walking Chapter 11 Spoilers, Dream Walking Kalluzeb Companion Fic, M/M, angsty angst, side Kalluzeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24400429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiplashcrash/pseuds/whiplashcrash
Summary: Draven’s loss is something he can’t face, not even when it’s taking up space in his damn desk with the kriffing Death Star blowing holes in the Rebellion’s forces.It might as well have blown a hole in his rib cage too, for all the good his damn heart is doing him.
Relationships: Davits Draven/Antoc Merrick
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	A Part for Blue One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dream Walking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857447) by [HixyStix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HixyStix/pseuds/HixyStix). 



> Inspired by @hixystix ‘s fic, Dream Walking, a Kalluzeb soulmate fic
> 
> Also, 
> 
> This takes place during chapter 11 of the fic and is angsty af.

The jingle of credits in his desk drawer caught Davits Draven’s eyes. They were buried in the back corner of said drawer, and tossed in an unimpressive little box, where they waited for him to spend them. They would be waiting a long time, now. 

Before, when he’d placed his bet, he knew exactly what he was going to spend the betting pool money on. After all, there was no question of whether or not he was going to win, so it wasn’t really gambling. Oh, sure, Draven had painstakingly crafted a reputation in which he was the coolest, most aloof and dangerous person out there. There were rumors he didn’t even understand how to connect with another living being in a way that didn’t involve the use of a vibroblade or blaster bolt. 

Draven’s soulmate had done his own fair share of work quieting those rumors, even if he’d thought Draven wouldn’t hear or know about it. The very thought that someone cared enough to “stick up” for Draven when he wasn’t there did in fact warm his heart, because yes, he did in fact have one.

While it may have suggested Draven was a little softer then he’d have preferred, he never said so much as a word to get his soulmate to stop. Draven knew that if he had said something of course the kriffing kind-hearted do-good foolish man would oblige, but he never did.

It was probably more healing for him than it was for Draven to put an end to any badmouthing he heard. To take something like that away from him was not even a possibility, even if Draven had considered it.

His otherwise flawless reputation meant people didn’t talk about their secrets in front of him. 

It was part of the reason Draven knew how to win.

The members of the Rebellion did him an even better favor. They talked about _each other_. It was how he knew about Kallus becoming Fulcrum, how Draven knew about the ice moon named Bahryn over Geonosis, perhaps in more intimate detail than some of those Spectres aboard the Ghost. It was also how he knew about the training out in the jungle and how those two were dancing around each other like damn fools.

Quite literally considering the way they were swinging those bo-rifles around.

Draven heard every little detail and then some. He’d even told Cassian if the Fulcrum agent decided to go and procure some information on the other Fulcrum agent, they would split the winnings.

There would still be enough for him to do what he wanted. Cassian agreed, but when the pool was over and the credits were collected, Cassian was gone.

And so was Merrick. 

_Merrick._ Ugh, even thinking about him ached in such a way it made him want to vomit. And he was _gone_ , just like Cassian.

While losing Cassian was a hefty blow to the Intelligence division, the death of General Merrick, Blue Leader, a fighter pilot and a brash loud cheery flashy man who was not suited for intelligence work, was even more pronounced.

Everyone felt it, including those outside of the Rebel Intelligence Division. Kallus, the damn fool whose soul bond consummation (or lack thereof) Draven had won the credits over, was hiding as if he knew the weight in Draven’s heart took up space in that damn drawer. 

While Draven was not a romantic, or an idealist, he had been so sure he was going to win that he’d made plans. He was going to spend the credits on none other than Merrick himself, and he was going to buy the damn pilot that new upgrade he wanted for his x-wing.

An x-wing that had been vaporized on the shores of Scarif. 

So, then, Draven was left with the credits and a gaping hole in his heart and a guilty-looking Captain in Intelligence who was more skittish than most damn Rebellion pilots where Draven was concerned. 

“General?” Kallus asked, snapping Draven out of his train of thought. He slammed the lid on the box of credits and then the drawer closed on his fumbling fingers.

Draven ignored the pain in his very red, very inflamed fingers and shook them out, looking at the brave soul who’d dared approach him. His eyes would’ve been wiser if full of fear, but instead he saw hope.

Not the hope Draven was desperately wishing that they would find, but the kind of hope Merrick often cited in between jokes and easy, warm kisses. 

* * *

_“It’s not just about winning all the time,” Merrick said._

_“It’s a war,” Draven said, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to win a war.”_

_“Well, yeah, but you don’t always win every battle. You just have to find the good in things, you know? Even when you lose.”_

_Draven lifted an eyebrow. “And what’s so good about losing?”_

_“Well, for one thing, I get to come home to you,” Merrick said, mostly teasingly, even when Draven smushed his face with a hand and pushed Merrick away with a stern face and gentle eyes. “But I also learn that I can get better at my job and I can get better at keeping my pilots safe to the best of my abilities. And if I keep my pilots safe, even if we lose, then they get to come home to their people.”_

* * *

Draven had hoped to keep his pilot safe. While he didn’t understand every little thing there was to know about the tweaks and the personal maintenance done to Blue One by Merrick himself, Draven knew that they kept his pilot, his Merrick safe. 

A part of him wondered if Merrick ever would have survived Scarif. Maybe if he’d had the part, he could have.

_But it’s not about the what ifs. He’s gone. Merrick’s gone, and the only other dreams you’ll have of him are your nightmares._

There was no use in beating himself up over it. _Besides, I was against the attack from the beginning. I knew it was too risky, not just for the Rebellion, but for him._

Captain Kallus cleared his throat nervously. “General? I think we found something.”

“Show me.” Draven said, standing from the desk, the credits not forgotten, but not at the forefront of his mind. 

Captain Kallus nodded, and Draven stood up to follow him to where the other members of Intelligence were waiting at that table that wobbled if you put your weight on it. 

“You see?” Draven could almost hear Merrick saying. “You lost something, but look at this. My guys can make this shot.”

“Yeah,” Draven would’ve replied. “But so could you.”


End file.
